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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25937125">205 Gangdong-daero, Gangdong-gu, Seoul</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimnamjin/pseuds/chronosaurus'>chronosaurus (kimnamjin)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stray Kids (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>?? kinda not really, Alternate Universe - Fans &amp; Fandom, Alternate Universe - Idols, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Alternate universe - celebrities &amp; non-celebrities, Attempt at Humor, But also, Celebrity Crush, Comedy, Famous soloist!Minho, First Meetings, Fluff and Humor, Jisung isn't an idol, M/M, Meet-Cute, Meeting your Celebrity Crush, Non-famous!Jisung, bffs!seungsung, but it doesn't go according to plan (but then it does), confident gay!Minho, famous/non-famous relationships, getting lost in jyp entertainment - au, h o w to tag this, i took creative liberties w the jype interior design, i wrote this like...3 days ago oop, idk if that's where auditions actually go down pls don't hurt me, it's cute i promise, jisung is a dork...but in the best way, jisung is minho's Biggest Fan, kim seungmin is tired, panicked gay!jisung, so basically jisung goes to jype to audition and also see soloist!minho, soloist!Hyunjin, there is cursing but not enough for a T rating imo, this is one of my better minsungs imo, title is the actual address of the jyp center in seoul, top producer!Chan, u meet ur celeb crush and they call u cute n ask u on a date - au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:49:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,077</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25937125</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimnamjin/pseuds/chronosaurus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He heard the telltale squeak of sneakers walking into the dance practice room. But by the time his brain comprehended the connotations, it's too late. </p><p>“Are you...lost? Can I help you?”</p><p>Jisung <i>knows</i> that voice, but he’s much too mentally addled to put two and two together. For now.</p><p>“Y-yeah,” Jisung wheezed, finally cracking his eyes open. He expected to see a big, beefy security guard, eager to usher Jisung back to where he’s <i>meant</i> to be. He never expected—</p><p> <i>“Lee Minho?!”</i> </p><p>Jisung shrieked so loudly, his throat felt raw in its wake. But he can’t even care about the tears in his vocal chords, because—</p><p>“The one and only.” Drawled Lee Minho. <i>The</i> Lee Minho. His celebrity crush Lee Minho, who’s the <i>love of Jisung’s life.</i></p><p> </p><p>Or: Han Jisung takes a trip to a JYPE open audition, all in the name of catching a glimpse of his celebrity crush. But his idea doesn’t exactly go according to plan, when Jisung suddenly finds himself hopelessly lost in the company building. </p><p>And when Jisung <i>does</i> meet Lee Minho–the greatest singer, dancer, solo artist multi-hyphenate of our generation–well….maybe his plan wasn’t so bad, after all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bang Chan &amp; Hwang Hyunjin, Han Jisung | Han &amp; Kim Seungmin, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>327</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>205 Gangdong-daero, Gangdong-gu, Seoul</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by a post i saw about how (apparently) Jisung first auditioned at JYP so he could see a celebrity while there. This boy is a walking fan fiction, i swear</p><p>Written to: left &amp; right by seventeen</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re an idiot. Are you aware of how much of an idiot you are?”</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“I’ve been told." Said Jisung, absentmindedly. He shoved a pair of white rubber soled sneakers into his duffle bag, taking up the last sliver of available space. He’ll probably have to change into those later, from his pair of summer-combat boots. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Combat boots are a year round fashion staple, if you ask Jisung. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Seungmin crossed his arms tighter over his chest, and padded after Jisung. He circumvented his best friend and continued his rant, a verbal itch you can’t scratch. Breathing down Jisung’s neck, but from a comfortable distance, so his buddy can’t physically shove him away. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“You're seriously going to <em> audition </em> at an agency so you can <em> maybe </em> see a celebrity while you're there? <em> Really, </em> Jisung?” Jisung can’t see Seungmin now, what with how he’s got his gaze focused on forcefully zipping his bag shut, but he can <em> hear </em>the disturbed pinch in his brows. He can hear the frown on his lips, as if a biological entity that has been birthed from Seungmin’s severe Jisung-brand disappointment. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung nodded, and flipped open the little door on his phone case. Yup, his metrocard is right there, where he needs it to be. His bag is packed, his subway card is charged for <em>more</em> than enough stops, and afternoon is quickly slinking away into midday. Time is ticking. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung turned his attention to Seungmin, as he heaved his duffle onto his shoulder. Damn, that shit is <em> heavy. </em>Since when did sneakers, a clean white tee, a charging cable and some lipgloss get so tough to carry?</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He pointed an accusatory finger at Seungmin, who is <em> still </em> staring at his buddy like he suddenly grew a second cranium. “And I'm not going just to see <em> any </em> celebrity. I'm going to see Lee Minho–the greatest singer, dancer, solo artist multi-hyphenate of our <em> generation, </em>Minnie.” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung thinks it’s a fantastic idea, honestly. He saw a paper ad stapled to a telephone pole outside his apartment last week, about how <em> the </em>JYP Entertainment is holding open idol trainee auditions on the upcoming Wednesday afternoon. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>And...well...that <em> upcoming Wednesday </em> is now... <em> today.  </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung doesn’t even necessarily <em> want </em> to be an idol. He wouldn’t <em> mind </em> being in the spotlight and putting his love of rap on display, but it’s not like it’s something he’s <em> dreamed </em> about. There is... <em> something </em> he’s dreamed about, though. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em> Someone.  </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Lee Minho. Aka, <em>the </em>most popular solo artist to <em>ever</em> come out of JYPE. Jisung has been a die-hard <em>Soonie</em> (the name of Minho’s fanclub) since he debuted with <em>Dawn </em>in late 2018. All it took was <em>one </em>well-produced music video, <em>one </em>teaser picture putting Minho’s gorgeous face at the forefront, and Jisung was a fucking <em>goner. </em>He’s bought all his albums, memorized <em>every </em>one of his songs, traded with people around the <em>world </em>to complete his photocard collection, and even snagged the same <em>earrings </em>as Minho. Multiple. Times. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>But can Jisung truly be blamed, for falling so head over heels for someone so unreachable? Minho is suave and kind, and so damn <em> talented, </em> it’s hard to believe a mortal such as him can possess such incredible skill <em> . </em> He's only two years older than Jisung, but Minho performs with the aura and mastery of someone who's been singing and dancing for <em> decades. </em> As far as Jisung is concerned, Minho was <em> born </em>to be on stage, illuminated by a spotlight. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He’s <em>never </em>seen anyone dance with the fluidity and ease of Lee Minho—while singing the catchtiest bops of the century, no less! He’s so handsome and fashionable, and genuinely <em>sweet.</em> He’s the love of Jisung’s <em>life. </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Okay, okay. Maybe that’s a little...<em> intense. </em> But Jisung has the biggest <em> , </em> deepest celebrity crush on Lee Minho; to the point where his first thought upon seeing that <em> “trainees wanted” </em>poster, is that he can use that as an opportunity to try and see his idol. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung explained that very train of thought to his best friend, Seungmin, praying the other will<em> finally </em>understand the brilliance of his plan.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He didn’t. At <em> all.  </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Seungmin sighed, loud and with the decibel height of a goddamn dog whistle. He slapped a hand to his forehead, and raked down his tender, youthful features. “Look, I <em>know </em>how much you like this guy. He’s really cool and hot, I get it! But...do you realize how creepy that makes you seem, Jisung?” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung’s cheeks reddened exponentially. “Hey!” He squeaked, trying to mentally will the heat from his face. He argued, “It’s not creepy if I’m doing it through an ulterior motive!” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung is many things, but he firmly believes that ‘<em> creepy fan’ </em> is <em> not </em> one of them. It's not like he's trying to steal a lock of Minho’s hair, or something! He just <em> really </em> likes (loves) Minho, and if he has the opportunity to <em> casually </em> see him in passing, then why would he pass such a chance up? It's not like Jisung would <em> talk </em>to him, if he does spot said idol. He wouldn't even dare to snap a picture! He'd just...silently gawk, in awe. Respectively, of course. And at a distance, of course.  </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Seungmin took it upon himself to turn away from Jisung, and unceremoniously flop onto the couch. The cushions barely even dipped, with the added lightness of his frame. He stared his friend down through dark, lidded eyes. Seungmin suddenly looks <em> extremely </em>exhausted. Jisung will take full responsibility.  </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“You do realize <em> most </em> creepy things are done with an ulterior motive, right?” Seungmin grumbled, shutting his eyes for what would be considered <em> much </em>longer than a standard blink. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung yelped, both at Seungmin’s not-so-subtle accusation, <em> and </em>because he snuck an unconscious glance at the watch on his wrist. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p><em> “Fuck,” </em> Jisung tripped over his own feet, in his haste to get to the front door. “The audition is in an hour, and I haven’t even left yet!” <em> God, </em> he has a full <em> three </em> subway stops to get through, and then a transfer at line 8 to get to the company building in Gangdong-gu. He’ll be lucky if he <em> makes </em> it to the audition at all, let alone <em> on time.  </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He frantically left Seungmin in the proverbial dust, still lazing on the sofa, now that Jisung is out of his hair. He’s on house-watching duty while Jisung is at the audition, and he’s <em> never </em>seen Seungmin look happier to not be Jisung’s living, breathing moral compass for once. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung adjusted his bag on his shoulder, quickly carded fingers through his styled fringe, and thrust open his door. “I’ll see you later, Minnie.” Jisung sent his friend a two-finger salute through the threshold, as farewell. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“I have an audition to get to.” </p><p>
  <strong> <em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</em> </strong>
</p><p>Luckily, Jisung made it to JYPE with time to spare. He power-walked down the crowded sidewalks until the towering, shiny JYP Entertainment building came into view, with a full fifteen minutes left before the auditions are set to kick off. The gods of poor time management must be looking down on him with benevolence today. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>There are many other company headquarters in the area, so the streets are always tightly packed with tourists and trainees alike. But Jisung only has his sights set on one alone, rapidly approaching on the street corner; 205 Gangdong-daero, Gangdong-gu, Seoul.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He made it. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung pushed open the huge, plate glass door to the company building, and slipped inside. His body is hit with a veritable wall of pleasantly cold air conditioning, and he felt the manic heat of <em> getting </em>to the establishment quite literally be blown away.  </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>The company headquarters itself is almost exactly as Jisung assumed it would be. Chrome appointments. Marble pillars. Impractical see through chairs. Gold and platinum and diamond records hung up like mounted trophies along the polished walls. Everything is sparkling to the point of giving Jisung a tension headache. Everything is perfect and manicured, and he feels <em> wholly </em>out of place. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>But Jisung still coolly sidled up to the receptionist desk, and said with the utmost asurity, “Hey there. I’m here for the open audition today, where should I go?” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>The receptionist, an objectively pretty girl with neon pink lipstick and rhinestones under each eye, smiled up at him from her post. “Of course!” She chirped, and even her <em> voice </em>is perfect and melodic. Each note whole and dulcet, like a sugary pop-song. “Just follow me,” she pushed out from her rolling chair, and gestured for Jisung to follow her down a nearby corridor. The lights are so bright, it makes the gold flecks in the floor tile look like starlight embedded under the toes of his boots. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung’s head was on a constant swivel as he toddled after her, on the lookout for <em> any </em> signs of Lee Minho in the vicinity. They passed by a framed, gold-dipped record of <em> Dawn, </em> Minho’s first EP, and Jisung’s heart stuttered. It just fully sunk in that this is <em> Minho’s company. </em> These are the halls that <em> he </em> walks, these are the walls that <em> he </em>looks at on the daily. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>And now <em> Jisung </em> is walking these halls. Now <em> he’s </em>gazing upon these spotless walls. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>It feels like a dream. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>She soon stopped before an unassuming meeting room, and announced, “Please wait out here for a few minutes. The staff will call you in when they’re ready.”</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung nodded, and bowed at the waist. “Thank you for your help.” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>She sent him another smile, and made move to take off back to her place at the reception desk. But before leaving, she turned back to Jisung and asked, “You have your audition song prepared, right?”</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung paled at the question. “Yes.” <em> No.  </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“And your dance, as well?”</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung gulped at the question. “Yup.” <em> Nope.  </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Her smile widened, authentically overjoyed at the prospect of Jisung fulfilling his “dream” of being an idol trainee, and finally took off back down the hallway. If only she knew. “Good luck!” She called over her shoulder, before slipping out of view.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Suddenly feeling lightheaded, Jisung stumbled backwards until his calves hit the rounded edge of a sumptuous pleather bench. He plopped down, and stuffed his face into his hands. <em> “Goddamnit,” </em> he muttered into the clammy flesh of his palms. <em> How could I have been so stupid? </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>It just hit Jisung like a ton-of-fucking bricks that this was a <em>bad idea. </em>He came to an <em>idol audition </em>with absolutely <em>nothing </em>prepared. No song. No dance. No <em>rap, </em>even though it’s his fucking specialty. Hell, he doesn’t even <em>want </em>to audition in the first place! It was just a means to a hopefully-Minho end! He can’t do this. He doesn't <em>want </em>to do this. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p><em> Fuck, </em>Jisung’s heart pounded, as he thought it. He splayed his fingers and looked through the cracks, and his swaying vision is met with the closed door to that godforsaken meeting room. There must be another trainee in there now, fighting for their dream. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p><em> A trainee. </em> Damnit! Jisung isn’t even a goddamn trainee! He has no agency, no talent representative, nothing! He’s just...a <em> boy, </em> in the midst of a misguided plan to meet the idol-love-of-his-life. Who, let Jisung reiterate, is <em> nowhere to be fucking seen. </em> Minho probably isn’t even at the company today. That’d be <em> just </em>Jisung’s luck. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He should’ve listened to Seungmin. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p><em> Why </em>does he never listen to Seungmin?!</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“I gotta get outta here,” Jisung choked on the words as they hang just under his breath. He popped up from the pleather bench on wobbling legs, and frantically looked about his surroundings. Chrome, marble, glass. Glass, chrome, marble. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>It’s all making his head spin. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>But he’s alone in the corridor, and that fact alone spurred Jisung into motion. Not wanting to wait until the aforementioned <em> staff </em> open the door to call him in, Jisung took off down the remainder of the hall. That’s right—he just pulled an <em> audition-and-dash. </em> Possibly the first person in history to do so. He couldn't have just gone back the way he <em> came, </em> of course. Oh no, he simply <em> couldn't </em>have done that. What would he explain to the poor receptionist, who led him here mere minutes prior? </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He unconsciously swung a left, and then a right, and then left again. He doesn’t even know where he’s <em> headed. </em>His feet are just piloting him down the first hall he sees, repeat. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>His stupid heavy duffle bag that he shouldn’t have even <em> brought </em> is smacking against his back with each step, as if to personally remind Jisung of how big of a <em> dumbass </em> he is. He <em> actually </em> thought he was going to fucking audition, back at his apartment. And the week before, when he first saw that poster and put his mind to his plan. How could he have been so <em> dumb? </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>It’s no matter, because right now Jisung is lost as all hell in the bowels of JYP Entertainment. Great.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Just fucking wonderful.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He spun on his heels, eyes wide open and searching for <em> any </em> signs of an exit. He did a full 360 until he tripped back to his starting position, left with goose eggs and a brain even <em> more </em> dizzy than it was previously. Everything looks the <em> same. </em> Shiny, shiny, shiny. Nothing is matte. Nothing looks <em> different, </em> promising. There’s no signs or arrows or <em> anything, </em> and Jisung wants to <em> scream. </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He’s already written off Minho. There’s no <em> way </em> he’ll see him—or any <em> other </em>celebrity, at this rate—and Jisung has accepted that. Begrudgingly. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He had half a mind to slip out of his phone and call Seungmin, <em> beg </em> his friend for help and admit he was right all along, but his stubbornness quickly stamped that idea into smithereens. No, no. He refuses to give his best friend the immense satisfaction. Jisung got himself <em> into </em> this mess, and he’ll get himself <em> out! </em>Hopefully. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Maybe. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He may very well die in a random hallway in JYP Entertainment. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Possibly the first person in history to do so. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung clumsily turned on his combat boots, and aimlessly hopped down the left hall at a fork in the metaphoric road. If there’s someone cool down the <em> right </em> side, Jisung is going to lose his goddamn <em> mind.  </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He sees empty practice rooms, the lights flipped off and MP3 docking stations glaringly empty. He sees deserted meeting rooms, with oblong white tables and countless chairs pushed under the face. But no <em> exit this way </em>signs. No directory, no map. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He sees no one. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He’s alone in the hallway, heart beating out of his chest.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Until he’s not. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung heard voices approaching, and his fight or flight instinct kicked into maxiumum-fucking-overdrive. He chose flight.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung all but <em> flew </em> back down the hallway, and slipped into one of the unoccupied dance practice rooms. He hugged the wall once inside, so he’s completely out of sight from outside. He silently eased his overstuffed bag onto the floorboards, so he can keep a tighter profile beside the door. All he knows is that he’s <em> not supposed to be here, </em> and if one of the JYP staff sees a <em> random boy </em>traipsing around the inner workings of the company, he’ll be tossed back out those plate glass doors before he could even explain himself.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>God.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He’s <em> hiding </em> in a <em> JYPE </em>dance practice room. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>What has his life come to? </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“-I’m <em> so </em> excited for my day off tomorrow, I can’t even <em> tell </em> you.” Said a voice, gradually peaking as he passed <em> right </em> by the open door of the practice room Jisung is seeking refuge in. It’s light and playful, and Jisung can hear the smile on the boy’s lips as he speaks. He <em> knows </em>that voice. It hit him like a ton of bricks—</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p><em> That’s Hwang Hyunjin, </em> Jisung thought, eyes widening at the realization <em> . </em> He’s a solo artist, just like Minho, but Hyunjin is a few years younger and subsequently debuted a bit after the elder idol. Jisung’s never been the biggest fan of Hyunjin, in all honesty. His videos are <em> fine. </em> His albums are <em> fine. </em>There’s just...something about him that rubs Jisung the wrong way. He has a feeling they wouldn’t get along well, had they known each other in real life. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“Lucky you.” Came a second voice. A little flatter, but still sounding genuinely happy. His slightly accented Korean lilted in the hall’s acoustics. “I have to work through the <em> whole </em>weekend on these tracks.” The second boy sighed, audible even as their voices trail off with their steps down the hall. “The work of a producer is never done.” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung knows <em> that </em> voice, as well. His heart thumped with excitement, as he peeked outside the threshold of the dance room. Two figures are languidly walking down the hall, backs to Jisung. One is tall and lean, thighs muscular and hips bobbing with the grace of a trained dancer. He’s wearing an expensive silk blouse and expensive slacks, each garment probably more pricey than Jisung’s entire <em> rent </em>every month. You can tell he’s absolutely gorgeous, even without seeing his face. Yup, that’s Hwang Hyunjin, alright. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>The other is much shorter, but what he lacks in footage he <em> certainly </em> makes up for in muscle. He’s wearing a loose black tank, putting his pale biceps on full display. His hair is visibly curly and fried porous blonde under the black cap on his head. The sight of those parched ringlets alone confirmed Jisung’s suspicions. <em> It’s him! </em> Jisung thought, bouncing silently in place. <em> It’s really CB97!  </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>CB97 isn't an idol, but he <em> is </em> the top hit-maker in <em> all </em> of JYPE, so he’s earned a celebrity status of his own over the years. He produces the lion’s share of Minho’s tracks, and Jisung <em> really </em>had to fight against his immense urge to chase after the boy and ask for an autograph. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Releasing a shuddering sigh, Jisung retreated back into the dance practice room, and let his head fall against the wall. The plaster is appropriately hard, and a grounding reverberation rang through his skull upon impact. His eyes fluttered shut, mimicking the rapid clip of his breathing. <em> Holy shit, </em> Jisung thought, starstruck. <em> I just saw CB97 </em> and <em> Hwang Hyunjin. Well...I saw their backs. But it still counts! </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung can’t believe it! He <em> actually </em> ended up accomplishing what he set out to do; he saw not one, but <em> two </em>celebrities in the hallowed halls of JYP Entertainment! </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Maybe this plan wasn’t so misguided after all—even if Jisung <em> did </em> spot said celebrities while hiding in a practice room so security won’t ban him from stepping foot on the same <em> block </em> as the company again, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Maybe he isn’t so keen on high tailing it out of the company anymore. Maybe if he presses on, he’ll find someone he <em> really </em>wants to see.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Except...no.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung was wrong. Very, very wrong.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>This was a bad idea. A <em> very </em> bad idea. How could he forget?</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He heard the telltale <em> squeak </em>of sneakers walking into the dance practice room. He heard it, but by the time his brain comprehended the connotations, it’s too late. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>The darkness behind his lids shifted, just a bit. Brightened, just a bit.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung heard the unmistakable <em> click </em> of a lightswitch being flicked. His blood ran cold in his veins, but he couldn't force his eyes open, for fear of what he would see. The elation of the last few minutes is instantly swapped with sheer horror, just like that. His stomach pinched, his heart faltered in recognition. He’s been <em> caught. </em>Jisung feels like he’s going to faint. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“Um,” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>A voice. A voice so sweet<em> , </em> so <em> familiar, </em>Jisung’s heart momentarily slowed, as if on instinct. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“Are you...lost? Can I help you?”</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung knows that voice, just like he knew CB97’s and Hyunjin’s. He knows that voice like the back of his fucking hand. He knows that voice more than <em> anyone </em>else’s. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>But he’s much too mentally addled to put two and two together. For now.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“Y-yeah,” Jisung wheezed, finally cracking his eyes open. He expected to see a big, beefy security guard, ready and eager to usher Jisung back to where he’s <em> meant </em> to be. He <em> never </em>expected—</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“<em> Lee Minho?!” </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung shrieked so loud, so shrill, his throat felt raw in its wake. But he can’t even <em> care </em>about the bloody tears he ripped in his vocal chords, because—</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“Mhm,” Said Lee Minho. <em> The </em> Lee Minho. The Lee Minho Jisung <em> came here for, </em> whose albums he has neatly stacked up on his bookshelf and whose music is in its own dedicated playlist on his phone <em> . </em> His celebrity crush Lee Minho, who's the <em> love of Jisung’s life. </em>“The one and only.” He drawled, smirking at Jisung’s dinner-plate sized owl eyes and unhinged jaw. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>It’s him. It’s fucking<em> him, </em> right there. He’s standing opposite Jisung, no more than a foot away. He’s wearing a simple black graphic tee and sweats, but he still looks positively <em> immaculate.  </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>And his <em> face. </em> That absolutely godly face that Jisung’s seen on all his precious photocards, and album jackets, and <em> music videos </em> is right there, <em> looking at him. </em> His steep, perfect nose with the birthmark on the curve of a nostril. Those thin lips, and how his sharp smile sometimes appears feline in nature. His dark, glittering eyes, how they seem deeper than the <em> sea </em> and shinier than the <em> stars.  </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He’s looking at Jisung. He’s <em> smiling </em>at Jisung. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Holy fuck. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung must be dreaming. He has to be. There’s no way in <em>hell </em>this can be real. Maybe he did die in JYP Entertainment already, and this tantalizing hallucination is his final punishment. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“So…” Minho said in the face of Jisung’s wild-eyed silence, gesturing at the floor-to-ceiling mirror wall at the far end of the dance room with a cock of his head. His hair is feathery and caramel brown and Jisung has <em> always </em>wanted to card his fingers through those strands. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“I have a comeback to practice for, but you’re welcome to stay and watch? As long as you don’t post any choreo spoilers, I guess.” He said with a casual, good natured shrug. Casual. He’s talking to Jisung—a fucking <em> rando </em> who shouldn’t be this deep into the building, <em> let alone </em> in a <em> practice room— </em>with such ease and nonchalance, it almost bowled him clean off his feet. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>If the sight of Lee Minho before him didn’t <em> already </em>accomplish that. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“I’m sorry!” Jisung squawked out of nowhere, because he couldn't comprehend anything else to say. Well, he could’ve started off by saying how <em> Dawn </em>is the greatest musical achievement of any human being to date, but...he’ll get to that later. Hopefully. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>If Minho doesn’t call security on him first. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Minho tilted his head, his genuine grin softening up around the sharp corners. “For?” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung blinked at him, in disbelief. <em> For? </em> He doesn’t already <em> know? </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung shoveled down a gulp, and forced the waiver from his knees and the quiver from his voice. <em> God, </em> it’s Lee Minho, <em> right there. </em> He’s so beautiful, just like in pictures. Pictures don’t even do him <em> justice, </em> on second thought. And he’s <em> looking </em> at Jisung. He’s <em> smiling </em>at Jisung! A nobody! Jisung can’t believe it. Any of it.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung’s frantic gaze flitted to the hardwood floor, then back to Minho, then down again. His combat boots are pigeoned so the scuffed toes meet, but he couldn't find it in himself to straighten his posture. “F-for...being in here? I came to audition, but then I panicked because I had nothing prepared and ran off and just...somehow found myself here? I-I’m not some weirdo stalker or something, I swear!” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung conveniently left out how <em> Minho </em>is the crux of why he made the journey to the audition in the first place. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Minho’s smile revved back up to its full glory, and Jisung felt whiplash crack his bones. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>The idol waved a placating, little hand. “It’s fine! I understand how stressful auditioning can be, trust me.” He mused with a giggle, and Jisung almost toppled right to the <em> floor. </em> How can <em> giggling </em>sound so sweet to the ear? How can Minho’s smile make Jisung want to serve him the world on a silver platter?</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“And honestly,” Continued Minho, making Jisung’s heart boom behind his ribs. “I legit thought you <em> were </em>a trainee already, when I first saw you in here.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, a bashful grin on his perfect lips. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung cocked his head at that. “What do you mean? M-mr.Lee s-sir!”</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Minho tipped his head back and <em> laughed </em> . Not just some demure giggles, but full on <em> belly laughter. </em>He absentmindedly waved away Jisung’s sentiment once again, as he said in between cackles, “Please, call me Minho hyung.” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung squeaked. <em> Call me Minho hyung.  </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He thinks he can handle that.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Minho quickly reined in his laughter, and got himself back on track. “And what I meant is that,” he looked at Jisung, unreadably. He shrugged again, “You have the idol look, I guess? You’re cute.” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Glass breaking. Jisung heard glass breaking between his ears. Cranial-fucking-shrapnel jangled in his skull. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“<em> Cute?!” </em> He coughed, hacking out the single word as if it’s a literal frog in his throat. He felt all the air rush from his lungs, as he doubled over to catch his breath. Cute? Minho, <em> the </em> cutest boy to ever <em> live </em> called <em> Jisung </em>cute?! </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>That settles it. There’s no <em> way </em>this is real life. No way. Not possible. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Minho giggled into a tiny fist at Jisung’s visceral reaction, before saying, “Yeah, cute. Really cute, actually. What’s your name?” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He said it again. He <em> doubled down </em> on the whole <em> ‘calling Jisung cute deal’, </em> and the boy in question can hardly tell left from right and up from down. All he can see and perceive is <em> Minho, </em>and his starry gaze on his body. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung unbent at the waist, and cleared his throat after that...not-very calm and cool display. He’s cool. He’s calm. The idol love of his life just called him <em> really cute, </em>but he’s cool and calm. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>No he’s not, but he’s trying to make it work under the Lee Minho-circumstances. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“The name’s Jisung. Han Jisung. And you?” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Minho blinked at him, wordlessly. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Realization slid down Jisung’s back like an ice cube under his shirt. “Fuck!” He yelped, “Scratch that, y-you’re Lee Minho, the <em> greatest, </em> most talented solo artist to ever grace the earth with your presence. I knew that. <em> Totally </em>knew that.”</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Minho smiled at him again. “I had a feeling you did, Jisung. And thank you, for being my fan.” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p><em> Jisung. </em> Lee Minho knows his name. Not only does he know it but he just <em> said </em> it. Holy heck—Lee Minho <em> knows Jisung. </em>Officially. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung has a feeling he isn’t actually dreaming. His brain would <em> never </em> let him get <em> this far </em>into a midnight-fantasy. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung sputtered, “I’m not <em> just </em> your fan! I have <em> all </em> your albums, know the words to <em> all </em> your songs, collected <em> all </em> your photocards, and I even bought the same earrings as you! You know the ones with the polar bears? Yeah, I <em> got those, </em>and—”</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung visibly deflated, suddenly. His ranting petered out, as Seungmin’s voice echoed through his head. “And this is making me seem super creepy, isn’t it.” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Minho chuckled at Jisung’s dramatics for the umpteenth time that afternoon, and took a small step forward. A small step closer. “Not at all! I really appreciate you supporting me, Jisung.” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung’s nervous energy got the better of him, and he began to wring his hands together. “Of course.” He mumbled, under his breath. “You’re amazing.” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Well, he may have just lost his soul from such severe mortification, but at least he can fade into the abyss knowing he <em> actually </em>got the chance to tell Lee Minho how incredible he is. He can die happily. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Or maybe, on second thought, live happily. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Minho hummed, and took another step closer to Jisung. He looked at him through thick lashes, and posed, “Do you, maybe, wanna get coffee with me when I’m done practicing?” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung heard glass shattering in his skull case for the second time. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“W-what? You don’t mean—No...<em> no, </em>you—no, I—”</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Minho stared at a babbling Jisung, silently. His eyes are big and brown and deep, and Jisung wants to fall down them like Alice into the rabbit hole. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung swallowed his torrent of verbal nonsense like a burr down his gullet, and tried again.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“Y-you’re–”</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“Lee Minho, yes. We’ve established this, Jisung.” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“A-and you’re–”</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“Asking you on a coffee date. Only if you want to, of course.” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“B-but–”</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“It'll be fine Jisung, don't worry. I'll be careful about who sees us.” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p><em> Us. </em> Minho and Jisung. Jisung and Minho. <em> Together.  </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung’s stomach swooped, as if he just took the plunge on a towering coaster at Lotte World. Holy heck.</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>This is <em> real life, </em> and Lee Minho just asked Jisung on a <em> date. </em></p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Eyes glassy and dazed, Jisung muttered in a near whisper, “You like iced americanos.” It’s all he could process verbally. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Minho nodded, sagely. “That’s right, I love iced americanos. Do you like them too, Jisung?”</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung bobbed his head, sending strands of his gelled and parted fringe tumbling back onto his forehead. “Y-yeah.” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>He felt Minho smile. Felt the electricity from that grin in the air, individual sparks nuzzling Jisung’s skin and giving him goosebumps. “So...is that a yes to the coffee date?” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung’s eyes shot open. “Yes! I-I mean, yeah. Sure. Sounds cool I guess, Minho hyung.” </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung valiantly tried to keep the dopey smile off his lips in order to save his <em> long </em> departed <em> cool guy </em>facade. He tried, really. But he couldn't help the cheek-bunching grin that bloomed on his lips, as he looked into Minho’s eyes. So sparkly, as they gaze at him. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Minho smirked, as if in triumph, and sauntered over to the docking station by the wall. He hooked up his phone, swiped a few times on the screen, and soon enough the opening beats to a song Jisung has <em> never </em>heard before echoed in the practice room. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Jisung is still standing by the door, body slack and heart thudding in disbelief, but the notes grounded him back into reality. He unconsciously tapped his foot in time with the rhythm, his eyes trailing Minho on the other side of the room. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>The soloist elegantly turned back to face Jisung. He’s smirking again, and the expression made Jisung’s entire body feel engulfed in flame. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>Minho winked, and Jisung’s heart boomed in perfect time with the beats. </p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>“I’ll finish practice quickly, then.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i guess this takes place in a universe where it’s. okay for idols to just go on dates w ppl they like lmao….idk just suspend ur disbelief thank u</p><p>I had a really fun time writing this, so let me know if u want more famous/non famous aus in the future! and pls consider leaving a kudo as support if u liked this :’)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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